


Worth the Wait

by Jenrose



Category: Castle
Genre: Episode: s03e22 To Love and Die in L.A., F/M, First Time, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenrose/pseuds/Jenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate Beckett read the note on the airplane home. What if she'd taken action right away?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Wait

Kate sat, staring at the folded paper in her lap for a long time. A trace of a frown furrowed her brow, and she glanced back over at Castle, still sound asleep in the seat next to her. His right hand lay limp in his lap, fingers slightly open, and she felt an almost irresistible urge to slip her hand against his palm.

She looked back at the paper, and thought about diving back into her life in New York. It seemed so far away, weirdly separate. As if everything she remembered was “before” and this, now, coming home, was coming back to a completely new life, a new way of looking at things. Is this the moment everything changes? she thought, and then suddenly realized she had not given Josh a moment's thought in days. Not that he'd called while they were in LA.

She'd have to tell him something. Reflexively she pulled out her phone, but then stopped. Wait for landing? Castle would be awake, then. Her eyes came to rest on the seat back in front of her, at the plastic phone embedded in it. She stared for a long moment, then took a deep breath, and swiped her credit card down the slot.

Josh's phone rang once, and again, and twice more before going to voice mail. She spoke softly, leaning as far toward the window as she could, her head turned away from Castle. “Josh, I... This trip got me thinking, and I didn't really want to do this by phone, but it's time. I don't want to change you, you're a great guy, but it's not working for me, and I think... I know that I'm done. It's not you, it's just... what I need is something different from what you have to offer. I'm sorry, and I wish you well.”

She slipped the phone back into the seat back, and glanced at Castle, still breathing evenly next to her, eyes closed. She looked at him for a long moment, and a smile quirked at the side of her mouth. “I know you're awake,” she said.

One eye popped open, and looked at her. “What gave me away?” he asked, sitting up straight and opening both eyes.

She almost laughed. “I'm a detective.”

He grinned. “How could I forget?”

“You heard that?” she asked.

The expressions that flickered across his face were a dead giveaway. He settled on a “serious, sympathetic” look, and said, “Yeah. You okay?”

She hesitated, and then gave him a genuine smile. “Yeah, I am.”

A sly look flickered across his face, and in a low voice, he said, “I'd say I'm sorry, but I think your ninja detective skills would spot my deception in a minute.”

“Ha,” she said, rolling her eyes, and leaned her seat back a little. She glanced over. He'd shifted, but his hand was still loose in his lap, palm up, open, as if he'd forgotten he'd left it there. Subtle. With a sly grin of her own, she pressed a button, dropping the armrest down, and deliberately slid her hand into his. “You've got nothing to be sorry about, Rick.”

She felt him freeze as her hand folded into his, as she spoke his first name. She waited, and his fingers finally responded, tightened around hers, almost too tight for a second, then relaxing, very deliberately, into a friendly clasp.

His voice was strange, a few minutes later, when he finally spoke. “He saves so many lives. I'm just a screw-off writer.”

She turned, her hand still snug in his. “Is that what you've been telling yourself?” she asked. “Because it's bullshit.”

“He doesn't save lives?” Castle asked, his eyes fixed on their clasped hands as if they were some strange alien creature sitting on his lap.

“You saved thousands a few weeks ago,” she said. “And you've saved me more times than I can count. And it's not a competition.”

“I...” he stopped, frowned, and finally looked at her. “Are you sure?”

“That you've saved lives?” she asked.

His reply was almost impatient, as he gestured with his free hand at their clasped hands. “No... about that. This.” He hesitated. “Dare I say... us.”

She blushed. “I was an inch from going away with you to the Hamptons a year ago. I've had some time to think about it.”

His eyes widened, she could see the gears turning. He finally managed, “I'm an idiot, aren't I?”

“Sometimes,” she said. “But I'm not easy. And I tend to run. And you tend to let me.”

He gave a dry half-laugh. “I don't force myself on people. Well, not that way. You made it clear a very long time ago that pursuing you via the normal methods wasn't going to win points, or your heart.”

“I never wanted to be just another one of your conquests,” she said.

“I've always wanted to be one of yours,” he answered. Then he paused, and said, sheepishly, “Actually, I think I always have been.”

She bit her lip. Suddenly he had a twinkle of merriment in his eyes and said, “So back there, when you said you wanted to kiss me, for the phone numbers....”

She grinned. “I wasn't lying.”

He looked delighted. “Good, because I seem to remember something about kissing you being amazing.”

“I thought it was how I knocked the guy out afterward that was amazing,” she said, feeling something giddy bubbling up inside. Her free hand quietly popped open her seatbelt buckle.

“Oh, I just said that so you wouldn't get mad at me,” he said. “And we were busy. And you seemed...”

Whatever she'd seemed was lost as she stopped his words with her mouth.

It was much more satisfying, she decided, if not quite as titillating, to kiss him when she wasn't trying to see if the bad guy had turned his back yet. Then he did something with his tongue, and she found herself responding, and rational thought fled.

They finally separated when the stewardess coughed to get their attention. “Coffee?” she asked.

He glanced at Kate and said, “Don't suppose you can do a grande latte...”

She smiled. “That's okay. It's late for coffee anyway.”

The stewardess raised an eyebrow and said, “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Castle said, with his most artificial smile.

A moment after the stewardess had left, they dared a glance at each other, and Kate felt something suspiciously like a giggle start to brew. “So still think it was...”

“Amazing,” he said. “Yes. Actually.”

“I'd think with all your experience,” she started.

“I'm still a novice when it comes to kissing one Kate Beckett,” he said. “You're unique.”

“Let me guess,” she said, dryly. “You're going to need lots of practice.”

He grinned. “Oh, I do hope so.”

She glanced at the shade over the window and murmured, “Not that you really need it.”

“What?” he asked, leaning closer. “I couldn't hear you.”

“Oh, nothing,” she said, looking back at him. He was grinning. She rolled her eyes. “See, now you look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

He schooled his expression, and said, “Really, Kate, you are unique. And I hope that I never stop needing to practice.”

“You've used my first name more in the past three days than I've heard you use it in the past three years,” she said.

“That's actually logically impossible,” he responded, “since the last three days are a subset of the last three years...”

She started to elbow him, but he shifted with her movement and deftly slid his arm across her shoulders. “Besides. I like your name. Your whole name,” he said. “It flows trippingly off the tongue. And your first name especially.”

“If you say kiss-me-Kate,” she said, “I'll probably bite you.”

“Promise?” he said, with a mock leer. “I wouldn't, anyway. I hate being trite. And cliché.”

She let her head drop against his shoulder, and let herself nestle into the space he'd made for her. “Do you always fly first class?” she asked.

“Mostly,” he said. “Once I could afford it, most of my flights were comped anyway.”

“I don't know if I'll ever get used to that,” she said.

“Oh, you totally will,” he said. “It's surprisingly easy to adapt to luxury.”

“I've spent most of my adult life being careful,” she said.

“I may look like a free-spending playboy,” he said. “But that's just with what's left over after being careful. I've seen firsthand what can happen when one isn't.”

“Your mother?” she asked.

“Believe it or not, I grew up being the responsible one in the family, all current evidence to the contrary.”

She grinned and looked up at him. “I didn't. Responsible came later for me.”

They sat for a few minutes, comfortable, warm, his gaze softening as he pushed a stray hair back behind her ear. When she finally looked away, it was just to shift a little closer, settle in a little more comfortably against him. No more running.

“You'll tell me all about that pre-responsible Beckett someday, won't you?” he asked. Then she felt him sit up a little straighter. “Hey,” he said. “Does this mean I'm going to finally see your tattoo?”

She chuckled against his chest, but said nothing, letting the vibration of the plane, the sound of his breathing, and his hand stroking gently down her hair lull her to sleep.

*

He stole a kiss as they pulled their bags down at JFK. He held out his hand, and she slipped hers into his.

“I was going to offer to take your bag,” he said.

“Your hand is busy,” she pointed out, which shut him up completely as she hoisted her bag to her shoulder and they made their way off the plane.

Before they entered the concourse, he pulled her aside and said, “If we walk out there holding hands, I can just about guarantee it will be in the society pages tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she said, and his eyes widened slightly.

“You're serious,” he said. People flooded past them in the jetway.

“Aren't you?” she asked.

“Deadly serious,” he said. “I'd be honored to take your hand, Detective Beckett.”

She flushed, and he amended, flustered, “Through the airport.”

She nodded, mouth suddenly dry, and they walked out of the jetway, hand in hand.

They were not expecting to see Esposito and Ryan as they passed the security checkpoint. They all spotted each other at the same time, and Castle leaned over to say, “I guess we don't have to figure out how to break it to them.”

Kate grinned up at him as they kept walking. “Easier this way. Besides. The looks on their faces. Priceless.”

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Ryan,” she said, as they crossed the security line.

“Hard trip?” Esposito asked. “I'm assuming he's holding your hand for moral support.”

Kate glanced at Castle, and grinned. “Something like that.”

Esposito's eyes widened. “You two... you didn't.”

Beckett looked at him quizzically and said, “Didn't what?”

Esposito opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

Castle said, “No, Javier. We didn't.”

As they walked out to the parking structure, Beckett leaned over with a wicked grin and said to her two detectives, “Yet.”

At the car, Ryan finally managed to say, “Where are we driving you?”

Castle and Beckett looked at each other in the back seat and he said, “That's up to Kate.”

Ryan and Esposito looked at each other and mouthed, 'Kate?'

She grinned, and said, “Oh, take us to Rick's. He needs to see his family.”

They mouthed, “Rick?”

“It's going to take them a while, isn't it?” she said to Castle.

He grinned. “They'll get used to it.”

*

Castle set his bag down next to the front door, and started to reach for his key when she stopped him. “I could go back to my place for tonight,” she said.

“Cold feet?” he asked, his expression neutral.

“No! It's just... You haven't seen them in a few days, and I...” She looked down.

“If you want, we've still got the spare room,” he said gently. “No pressure.”

Her bag slid from her shoulder. He watched it hit the floor, and suddenly found himself backed up against the wall next to the door, her body pressed against his. Standing, it required so very little effort to kiss her. He groaned a little as her hands found his, pressing him harder against the wall.

She pulled back just far enough to speak, her breath hot against his ear, “What if I want pressure?”

His knees seemed to buckle for a moment, but then she was pressed against the wall, tables turned. He leaned in and said, “I think that could be arranged, Detective Beckett.” His hand slid down her back, and he moved in to kiss her.

She put a hand up to his lips and said, “Inside, I think.”

“Right,” he said, and found his key.

The apartment was dark, only the dim light over the front door and the filtered glow from the streetlights outside giving any sense of the space at all. He dropped their bags in the foyer, and started to turn, to find she was right there. By the time the front door clicked shut, they were on the couch, kissing.

Light flared, and Alexis voice came from the stairway. “Dad! How was your trip? And how's Detective...” She faltered, as she came far enough down to see them on the dimly lit couch.

As her father sat up, Alexis finished weakly, “...Beckett?”

Kate pulled her hand across her mouth as she sat up and then waved sheepishly. “I'm fine, thank you, Alexis.”

“Were you two just...” Alexis blinked. “Nevermind. I don't need to know. But...” She looked confused. “I thought you were dating someone...”

“Broke it off,” Kate said.

Alexis considered her father for a moment, who was clearly trying, but failing to keep a cheshire-cat grin from spreading across his face. She finally smiled, and said, “Bout time. I'm going back to bed, Dad. Don't stay up too late.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, with a solemn salute.

As the light disappeared, they heard a little flurried discussion in the upstairs hall. Martha peered over the balcony in the dim light, and they waved up at her. Her mouth opened and closed and finally she turned and disappeared back the way she'd come.

They looked at each other, and Kate started to chuckle.

“They approve, you know,” he said. “They like you.”

“I like them too,” she said.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out. A text popped up, from Lanie. One word. She showed it to Castle.

“Finally,” he read, and grinned. “I couldn't agree more.” Then he looked curious. “So, are you ever going to tell me what changed?”

She slipped the folded paper out of her pocket, and handed it to him.

He read, silently, staring at the last lines for a long time before gently folding the paper back up, and placing it in her hand. “He was a wise man.”

“He had his moments,” she said. “He wasn't perfect, not by any stretch, but in his heart he wanted to do the right thing.”

“I may be eternally grateful to him,” Castle said, and stood, holding out his hand. “Join me?”

She smiled. “I'd love to.”

*

Walking into Castle's bedroom felt surreal. The room was very him, and she stood inside the doorway, looking around the dimly lit space. In the middle, the bed. He tossed his jacket onto a chair, and stood, unbuttoning his cuffs, watching her watching him.

The urge to back through the still-open door warred with the urge to help him with his buttons. Deliberately, she stepped inside, and closed the door behind her. He smiled.

“I left my pajamas downstairs,” she said.

He leaned over and grabbed something out of a drawer and tossed it her way. “Wear that if you feel the need,” he said.

She shook out the folded fabric, to find a simple white t-shirt. She stared at it for a long moment, considering. “I don't know how to do this,” she said, quietly.

“You put one arm in, and then the other, and then slide it over your head,” he said, deadpan.

She looked up, and found him standing a few feet from her, clad only in boxers. “Or I could help you,” he said, gently. “I'm good at figuring things out.”

“You know what I mean,” she said.

He wrapped his arms around her, and said, “You mean the part about bridging the distance between friends and lo.. more than friends.”

“I don't want to screw this up,” she whispered. “It's too important.”

“Shhh,” he said into her hair. “Let's just see where it goes.” He pulled back. “And we can start by going to bed. To sleep.”

“I do want you,” she said.

“We've just flown for hours. I don't know about you,” he said, “but I'm actually very tired. And while there are few things in this world that I'd like to do more than make beautiful love to you, it might be better if we let that happen when we're not both jet lagged and overwhelmed.”

She toed her shoes off, and smiled up at him. “How do you do that?”

“What?” he asked, shifting back so she could unfasten her pants.

“Make me feel safe,” she said. “That's supposed to be my job.”

He grinned. “It's mutual. Do I have to look away when you take your top off?”

Her eyes twinkled, and she shimmied her pants off. “Nah,” she said, and deliberately grabbed the bottom hem of her top. As she slowly slid it up and over her head, she said, “Haven't you figured it out yet?”

“Hmm?” he asked, clearly distracted.

“I'm a bit of an exhibitionist,” she said, dropping the shirt, and standing in front of him in only bra and panties.

He nodded incoherently. She grinned. “You're so easy.” She took the shirt out of his hands, and shrugged her way into it, then dropped her bra out one sleeve. She bent over, and picked up her clothes, folding them and setting them on the dresser.

He was still staring at her, and she asked, “What?”

“Just savoring,” he said. “Will you join me?”

“Which side should I take?” she asked.

“You pick,” he said.

She slid in on the right, and watched as he walked around to the far side of the bed, and slipped in under the covers. Snuggling up against him felt like the easiest thing in the world.

“This is so strange,” she said against his skin.

“Oh?” he asked into her hair.

“It feels so normal.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against her cheek. “You just said that it was strange.”

“It's strange that it feels so normal,” she said. “Usually the first time I'm in bed with someone, it's in a heated rush and I don't know them all that well. This doesn't feel like that kind of first time.”

“Miss the rush?” he asked.

“Too tired for the rush right now,” she said. “And the last thing I need now is a repeat of my past mistakes.”

She felt his arms tighten around her. His voice rumbled a little against her ear. “I know what you mean.”

She shifted and said, “Besides, if I want rush, all I have to do is this.” He obligingly leaned down to make it easier for her to kiss him. And there it was, that falling, rushing feeling, the world disappearing, everything concentrating on the simple meeting of lips and tongue and skin.

She wasn't sure how long it was before they relaxed, and he said, his voice rough, “How do you do that?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said. His hand had found its way under the t-shirt, and was tracing circles across her shoulder blades. She stretched a little, almost purring.

“No, really,” he said. “Kissing you is better than...” He stopped.

She dropped a kiss on his collarbone. “Better than...”

“It's just one of the more enjoyable things I've ever done in my life,” he said.

She grinned against his neck. “Likewise.” She rested her head against him, and said, “You know, I think it's been years since someone kissed me like that without trying to turn it into something more right then.”

“You're here,” he said. “You're mostly naked, in my arms, and you've already told me that you want me,” he said. “I'm savoring the moment. I want to savor it all. How many more vacation days do you have coming?”

She pulled back a little, and looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because right now I'm thinking I'd like to order in and not leave this place for the next couple of days, savoring you.”

“You're not afraid of foreplay, are you?” she said, amused.

“I actually enjoy it,” he said. “It's like a good novel, I don't like skipping to the end. I like the anticipation just about as much as the reveal. More sometimes.”

“I'm on the pill, by the way,” she said.

“I always use condoms,” he responded. “Well, for the past 17 years anyway.”

“After Alexis?” she asked.

“I love her dearly and will never regret her. But there have been precious few women I've slept with that I actually had any desire whatsoever to be tied to for that long. And her mother was on the pill, but god knows Meredith was flighty enough that she probably forgot to take it.”

“Did you ever want more kids?” she asked.

“In the abstract. But I always knew I'd want to take a lot more care in choosing their mother,” he said. “You?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “I think I always assumed I would have them, but later, you know? And there was always the whole finding-the-right-guy issue.” She faltered for a moment. “My mother had me when she was younger than I am now.”

“You've got plenty of time,” he said. “No rush.”

“No,” she agreed. “I'm not in a hurry.”

He kissed her forehead, and lay back, eyes closed. The quiet spun between them, and they fell asleep.

*

A knock on the bedroom door woke them. Sunlight filtered through the windows, and Kate stretched a little as Castle said, “Who is it?”

Alexis' voice answered, “Just me. I made breakfast, I can leave a tray out here if you're...”

“No,” Kate said. “It's okay, we're decent.” She sat up, pulling the blanket up around her hips as the door opened slowly.

“Looks good,” Castle said. “You bucking for more driving privileges? And don't you have school?”

Alexis looked slightly indignant. “I just wanted to be nice, to welcome you both home. And it's Saturday.”

Kate grinned. “It looks delicious. Are those chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Dark chocolate,” Alexis said, setting the tray on the bedside table.

Her father peered at the tray, and said, “No whipped cream?”

“Oh!” Alexis exclaimed. “I knew I forgot something. Be right back.”

Kate sipped orange juice as Alexis disappeared out the door.

“You know, if it had just been me,” Castle said, a minute later, “I'd have been lucky to get cold cereal. You're getting the five star service.”

Kate grinned. “I take it she doesn't do this for everyone you bring home?”

“Try, for anyone I've brought home. Ever,” he said, around a mouthful of pancake.

“You taught me that good judgment should be rewarded,” Alexis said, with grin at Kate as she returned with the whipped cream canister. She tossed it to her dad, who caught it one-handed. “I'll see you two later. I'm going out with Gram.”

Kate watched the bedroom door close, bemused. When she turned back, he was holding out a fork, loaded with a small bite of pancake and an obscene amount of whipped cream. She grinned, and let him feed it to her.

He had a twinkle in his eye, and gave the fork a little twitch as she leaned over. The bite went in her mouth, but most of the whipped cream ended up on her cheek. She said, around the mouthful, “You totally did that on purpose.”

“I totally did,” he said, leaning forward and licking the smear of whipped cream off her face.

She started laughing, and made a grab for the canister sitting next to him on the bed. He held it up and away, falling backwards on the bed, and she landed across his chest. She looked at him, grinned, scrambled and swung a leg over him, to straddle his belly. The look on his face was priceless. His arms fell back bonelessly, the can slipping down to the bed, as he looked up at her. She grinned, reached over, and picked up the canister.

“Anything you want, Detective Beckett. I'll talk. You have me at your mercy,” he said, still staring up at her. She looked at the canister, and then looked at him, considering. She shifted a little, watching as his eyes glazed slightly, and very deliberately leaned forward, until her mouth was almost touching his ear.

“I don't actually want you to talk,” she said. “I was thinking about seeing what other noises I could get you to make.”

She sat back, and held up the canister, and carefully ejected a small dollop of whipped cream onto her finger. She looked at him, considering, and then lightly trailed the cream along his neck.

He closed his eyes as cold whipped cream was followed by her warm tongue, and groaned inarticulately as she followed the trail up to his ear.

His hands reached for her, sliding under the loose t-shirt, tightening against her shoulders as she flicked her tongue over his earlobe.

She leaned back and let him pull the shirt up and over her head. The teasing merriment in his eyes was gone, as he shifted under her, and let his fingers trace up her belly to curl around her bare breasts. But his eyes were on hers, taking in the permission, the want in her face. A soft smile started with his eyes and worked down to his mouth as he slowly traced the shape of her breasts, finally finding her nipples with his thumbs, watching as she closed her eyes and arched slightly into his touch.

He experimented, watching her reactions, finding the exact touch that made her breath come faster. And then he said, quietly, thumbs still rubbing lightly across the tips of her nipples, “I've been falling in love with you for so long.”

She opened her eyes, and her hands slid down his wrists, to his shoulders, and she leaned forward, kissed him slowly, surely. Then she drew back, and said with a small smile, “Likewise.”

“I keep expecting you to shoot me down, push me away,” he continued. “But you're here. You're in my bed. Letting me touch you. You're doing...” He arched involuntarily as her tongue found his ear again. “... unspeakable things with your tongue. To me. I feel like I should pinch myself.”

She nipped his earlobe with her teeth, and he yelped. “That worked. I'm definitely awake.” He shifted under her, and she chuckled.

“I can tell,” she said. She settled back on her hips, grinding against him through the thin layers of their remaining clothing.

She looked down at his chest, her fingers tracing circles on his stomach, and she said, quietly, not meeting his eyes, “No matter how I pushed, you stayed. You didn't let me go, but you didn't force anything. I've never had anyone I could count on the way I count on you. It's terrifying, actually, letting myself need anyone. But I do. And you've let me need you, without making me feel like it made me weak.” She let herself look at his face then, and found him looking at her with the gentlest eyes.

“You're the strongest woman I've ever met,” he said. “And if I can be that place of safety for you, I'll do anything I can to give you that. For as long as you'll have me.”

“Always,” she whispered.

His hand cupped her cheek, and she caught it. Then he got a strange look on his face, and she looked at him quizzically. “Would you think any less of me,” he said, “If I said I really need you to climb off of me for a minute? You're... um... sitting on my bladder.”

She laughed, and shifted, and he rolled out of the bed to his feet. “Don't go,” he said. “I'll be right back.”

A moment later she heard the water running, and climbed off the bed. As he emerged from the bathroom door, he said, “I took the liberty of putting a new toothbrush out for you.”

She grinned, and moved past him toward the bathroom. “You know,” she said, “for as obnoxious as you sometimes make your public persona, you're one of the more thoughtful people I've ever met.”

He smiled, and gave a little bow, and gestured at the bathroom. “All yours, m'lady.”

*

She hadn't planned on staying long in the bathroom, but his marble shower drew her in. It was ridiculously decadent, with multiple heads and digitally controlled temperature. Removing the grime of the previous day's travel abruptly seemed like a very, very attractive option. She glanced back at the bedroom, torn, and then back at the shower.

The shower won. She slipped out of her panties, and turned the water on, put a hand under the spray, and bumped the temperature up a few degrees. She heard his voice beyond the door, saying, “You know, there's room for two in there.”

She grinned, ducking her head under the spray, and called back, “Give me a minute.”

“Take as long as you like,” he said.

“I meant, give me a minute and then you can join me,” she said, finding a bar of French milled soap and quickly washing. In her head, she counted the seconds, and was amused to hear the door open slowly at 59.

She stretched under the water, back to the wide entrance to the shower, and smiled when she felt his hands on her hips and his mouth on her neck. She turned, and ran her fingers down his back, all the way to his ass, and grinned. “You're naked.”

“Your powers of deduction are amazing,” he said. “But I do, usually, shower naked. I could say the same about you, by the way.”

She grinned, stretched again in the warm cascade, and draped her arms around his neck. “I'm surprised you aren't searching me with with a magnifying glass,” she said.

His eyes lit up, and he grinned. “Is it that small?”

“Or maybe that hidden,” she said, teasing.

“Well, I know it's someplace your swimsuit covers,” he said. “And not on your upper body, or on your back. That narrows it down to a very small area, which I plan on examining very, very closely.”

“Or maybe I don't actually have one, and was yanking your chain,” she said.

He actually looked disappointed. She grinned. “You'll just have to look, won't you?”

He grinned. “Looking is the fun part,” he said, but he seemed more concerned with kissing her than with searching her body with anything but his hands.

A few minutes later, still kissing, he slapped the controls off, and guided her out of the shower, grabbing an enormous bath sheet blind, and then finally stepping back to dry her off. She watched him, amused, as he made a great show of inspecting her as he ran the terrycloth over her skin. He pulled her damp hair aside, and ran the towel over her neck, then peered closely at it, dropped a kiss against her skin and said, “Not here.”

“You knew that,” she said.

“Hush, I'm being thorough.”

Kisses followed the towel down her arms, then her back. She shivered as his lips lingered at the small of her back, and then followed the curve of her hip down the back of one leg.

“You were already pretty sure it wasn't there,” she said.

“You know these things are always in the last place you look,” he retorted. “And looking is half the fun.”

She squirmed as he teased the back of one knee, not just with his lips, but with his tongue. “It's not scratch and sniff, Castle,” she said, almost impatient and just a little bit ticklish. “You won't find it by tasting.”

“Shhhh,” he said, moving to her other leg, and working his way back up.

“I'm getting cold,” she said, holding out one still damp arm. “See? Goosebumps.”

He grinned up at her from the vicinity of her left hip. “Fine.” He stood, and swathed her in the towel, and nudged her toward the door of the bathroom. “We can continue in there.”

He caught a second towel and wrapped it around his hips, and followed her out.

As he took the towel from her at the bed, her pants started ringing from the chair.

He groaned. “Please tell me that there's not a murder,” he said, as she fumbled her phone out.

She looked at him, bemused, and said, “From, you, that's a first,” as she checked caller ID and took the call. “Beckett.”

She climbed onto the bed as Captain Montgomery said, “I don't know whether to fire you for insubordination or give you a medal for closing the case so thoroughly, so I decided to compromise.”

“Yes, sir?” she said.

“Is Castle with you?” Montgomery asked. “I know you're back in town, I spoke to Ryan this morning.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“Put it on speaker then, since this concerns the both of you,”

She thumbed the phone to speaker and set it down on the bed. “It's on.”

“Hi, Roy,” Castle said.

“Hey Castle. So Kate, the precinct can't reimburse your travel costs, because they weren't approved. But I did keep you on the clock for the days you were gone, so you haven't burned your vacation days. I don't want to see you, either of you, until Wednesday. Consider it a paid suspension, Kate. Oh, and Castle, if you hurt her, there won't be a safe place for you in this city. You need to know that.”

“I have no intention of hurting her.” Castle looked amused. “But it's good to know she's got you looking out for her.”

“Oh, and if this whatever-it-is between the two of you spills over into the precinct and interferes with Detective Beckett's performance, your working partnership will be over. When you're here, keep it professional. Well, as professional as you've managed so far. That's all.”

“Yes, sir,” Kate said, and Castle echoed, as the call ended.

They looked at each other, and he grinned. “It's been a long time since I got a Father Warning. Think I'll get the Big Brother talk from Ryan and Esposito, once they've managed to recover from the shock?”

“Probably,” she said. Her phone rang again, and she answered it without looking, “Beckett.”

“What the hell, Kate?” Josh's voice came through on speaker phone, and she quickly picked up the phone and thumbed the speaker off. Castle looked torn, and she gestured for him to join her on the bed.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“Voicemail?” he asked. “Since when do I warrant breakup via voicemail?”

“I've never cheated on anyone, Josh, and I wasn't about to start with you, and if you'd talked to me once in the past week, you might have had some idea that it was coming. So since I wasn't willing to put the rest of my life on hold, waiting for you to be available via phone, voicemail it was.”

“So I wasn't good enough?” he asked.

“You're a great guy, Josh. And some day you're going to be on one of your trips and you're going to meet someone with the same passion for the work you do, and they won't want to change you. But I needed someone who could be here for me, and you weren't, and I realized that the only way I was going to be happy in a relationship with you was if you changed, and that's not fair to you, and it's not fair to me.” Castle reached out and held her free hand.

“There's someone else,” Josh said.

“If there wasn't, it could have waited. But he was there for me. He's always there for me, no matter what. And I needed to end it with you before starting anything with him.” She squeezed Castle's hand.

Josh was silent for a long moment, and then said, “So this is goodbye.”

“And good luck,” she answered. “I do wish you well. And I'm sorry we couldn't make it work.”

She hung up the phone, stared at it for a minute, and then very deliberately turned it off. She looked up at Castle, and said, “No more interruptions.”

“You okay?” he asked.

She grinned. “I will be, when you find my damn tattoo.”

With a laugh, he took the phone from her, set it on the bedside table, and nudged her until she was lying on her back. “Where was I?” he asked. “I'll just have to start at your toes... He stretched out next to her, with his head at her feet, and peered at them carefully, dropping a kiss on the inside of her ankle.

“You already checked there,” she said.

“Hush, I'm savoring,” he said, running a finger up her leg.

“Are you always this maddening?” she asked. “Never mind. I know the answer.”

He grinned, and shifted, running a rapid trail of kisses up to her knee. He sat up, looked up and down her body, and then grinned. “I'm going to have to get a closer look at that, you know,” he said, his eyes finally finding the small blue and green dragonfly landing just above her pubic bone.

She grinned. “I was hoping you would.”

He nudged her knees apart, and stretched out between them, his arms resting on her upper thighs, and made a great show of studying the faded tattoo. He traced it with his finger, and said, “So what was it commemorating?”

“Losing my virginity,” she said.

“Nice symbolism. Painful?”

“In a good way,” she said. “The tattoo, more than the virginity.”

He chuckled. “I never envied girls that bit,” he said.

“Oh, losing my virginity wasn't painful,” she said. “Just awkward and messy.”

“Ah, same,” he said. “There's something to be said for experience.” He dropped a gentle kiss on the tiny image, and she shivered.

“Cold?” he asked, shifting a little.

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

He grinned, and let his mouth hover over her inner thigh, his warm breath teasing her skin. She arched a little, and his mouth touched her skin, his tongue tracing circles.

One of her hands strayed down to his head, and he turned, kissed her palm, and then returned his attention to her inner thigh, teasing his way closer and closer until she finally gasped, “Richard Castle, you are a damn tease.”

“Guilty,” he said. “Patience, grasshopper.” With that, he dropped a kiss on her mons, and traced her labia with his fingers, grinning when her legs fell farther open, and she arched toward his fingers. He opened her gently with his fingers, and found her clit with his tongue. He toyed with it, watching her carefully, finding the exact spot that send her head back into the pillow, her hips pushing up toward him. Focusing in on that spot, he teased and sucked until she was vibrating under him, then slid a single finger inside, curling it deftly upward, looking for a reaction and smiling against her when her hand found his hair, the other hand clenching and unclenching in the sheets.

“Don't stop,” she said, as he hesitated, and in answer, he redoubled his efforts, adding a second finger, increasing the pace of both mouth and hand until she finally cried out, spasming around his hand. He rode out her orgasm until it subsided, then looked up at her, grinning.

“You look pleased with yourself,” she said, when she finally opened her eyes.

“I like making you feel good,” he said.

“The feeling is mutual,” she said, with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“Ladies first, you know,” he said.

“I'm not any kind of a lady,” she said.

He rolled off of her, and said to the ceiling, “Dear diary. My heart leapt today when Detective Beckett quoted Man of La Mancha in the throes of passion.” Then he looked over at her, and said, “But you're no Aldonza. Dulcinea, maybe, but not Aldonza.”

“And you're not Don Quixote. Well, not usually,” she said, sitting up and looking at him thoughtfully. “So, should I be searching for a tattoo on you?”

“I never found anything I wanted on my body permanently,” he said. “Life has always been more transient than that.”

She contemplated him for a long moment, and he said, “Penny?”

She grinned. “Just wrestling between the urge to tease you until you scream, and the desire to fuck you senseless.”

His mouth went dry, and she was amused to see him twitch and harden instantly. “I'm at your mercy.”

“You are, aren't you?” She bit her lower lip, and let a smile play across her mouth, as her fingers trailed up and down his chest. “I think I should start up here,” she said, breathing against his neck, “and work down.” She traced his ear with her tongue, then worked slowly down his neck, to his chest, and stopped to nip lightly at one of his nipples. He arched under her, and she put a hand on his hip.

“Shhh, don't move,” she said.

“Yes, ma'am,” he said through clenched teeth as she swirled her tongue around his nipple and then traced a wet line down his abdomen. He made an incoherent gasp as she came close to his cock, but skimmed away from it to suck a tiny hickey at his hip. She ran her tongue down the side of his groin, to his inner thigh, stopping at his knee to suck again, He groaned and twitched, and she shifted to find his feet, tracing the inside of an arch to see him jump. She worked her way back up his other leg, letting an arm brush against his erect cock, seemingly accidentally, as she pushed his knees apart and ran her tongue up his inner thigh.

He actually squeaked when she found his balls with her tongue, and she grinned, ran her tongue up his cock, and then continued up his abdomen.

“Don't... stop...” he gasped, grinding against her chest as she found his other nipple.

She looked up at him, and said, “Oh Rick, I haven't even started.”

He made a plaintive little moan. “I promise to be a good boy, I promise...”

“Oh, you're very, very good,” she said against his neck, letting her body cover his, his cock pinned against her belly. She took his earlobe gently in her teeth, flicking it with her tongue, and then released it, saying, “And so am I.”

He pushed against her belly, grinding, and she pulled away from the pressure, grinning, as she worked her way back down his body. She looked up at him. He was watching her every move, a hungry look on his face. She dropped her head and took him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip of his cock, then sucking him deep into her mouth, watching his reaction and grinning around his cock as his head slammed back into the pillow. She worked at him until she could feel him near the brink, and then tightened her hand around the base of his cock and sat up.

He gesticulated in the direction of the nightstand, and she found a condom in the drawer, A very expensive condom. She deftly unrolled it down his shaft, as he watched. When it was on, she started to shift to straddle him, but he actually growled, pushing her gently onto her back, and nudged her legs apart. He centered himself at her opening, and asked, “Ready?”

In answer, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deep within. His eyes widened as they joined, and he froze for a moment, filling her. “God, Kate...” he said, and then words were lost, as they ground together fast and furious, his hands everywhere, hers locked on his hips, pulling him closer and tighter.

There was none of the usual fumble to find a rhythm. His body felt as familiar to her as if they'd been lovers already for years, meeting his thrusts felt right in a way few things ever had. She pulled up to kiss him, and felt something frozen inside melt, and give way. They rolled together, until she was on top, and his hands found her breasts as she rode him, her head thrown back. She managed to look down at him for a moment, and was unsurprised to see him watching her, but shocked at the emotion bare on his face. His hand dropped to where they joined, and his thumb found her clitoris, and she came apart completely.

He followed a moment later. She came to rest on his chest, shaking, as he gently reached down to disengage and catch the condom.

“You're trembling,” he said, a trace of wonder in his voice.

She looked up at him, and said, “You're crying.”

“So are you,” he said, brushing a thumb across her cheek.

“I've never...” she stopped, unable to find the words.

He pulled her up to snuggle against his shoulder, and said, “Shhh, it's okay. Me neither.”

She smiled against his skin and asked, “So, worth the wait?”

“I'd say you have no idea, but I think you do,” he answered.

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written and finished years ago, I'm just moving it over now. A reaction to 3x22, back when the UST was strong, and before the ship sailed.
> 
> I'm publishing an original web serial! It's [A Lon Story](http://lonstory.com/index.php/stories/).
> 
> Find me [Tumblr.](http://jenroses.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please comment, kudo and share!


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